


Iron Legacy

by chocomiruk



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, Harley Keener is a little shit, Harley Keener-centric, Legacies, M/M, Peter Parker-centric, Precious Peter Parker, he gets it dont worry, mentioned non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27017467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocomiruk/pseuds/chocomiruk
Summary: “Let’s do it,” Pepper announces.Tony pulls away from her, just slightly. He quirks a brow, a smile tugging at his lips. “Really?”“Yep,” she nods. “Let’s retire.”
Relationships: Harley Keener & Harley Keener's Sister, Harley Keener & Pepper Potts, Harley Keener & Tony Stark, Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 16
Kudos: 277





	Iron Legacy

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!!! Welcome to my first fic in the fandom. I'm a shameless Harley Keener stan, and connected with another! And well- here we are. Thank you Peachy for being so supportive and spurring me on. I hope yall like this! it took a long time
> 
> NOTE: Accent might seem weird to yall all typed out, but I assure you I'm actually southern! That's how we talk in the city I live in. Sorry if it's bothersome.

Tony knows he’s getting old. 

His body doesn’t heal as fast as it used to and his knees ache after standing for too long. Hell, the bones he’s broken in the past flare with pain at random, sometimes leaving him compromised for hours at a time. He can’t pull all-nighters that often anymore, and dare he say, has been going to bed before twelve a.m for almost a year now. 

Peter has taken to calling him ‘old man’ now, and the worst part is that Tony can’t even defend himself. He _is_ old, and there’s no denying it. He’s barreling head-first into his fifties, which weirds him out if he thinks about it too long. He’s felt like he’s always been fifty in spirit, having shouldered more responsibilities in his years than most people have in one lifetime. 

Peter himself has shot up from a scrawny fourteen-year old kid to a mature seventeen-year old high school senior. He’s just a little bit taller, with a sharper jaw and broader shoulders than before. Even his voice is slightly deeper. If Tony gets emotional from just watching three years of the kids growth, then he can’t even begin to understand how May feels. 

Pepper herself looks as beautiful as ever, with just the slightest of lines wrinkling at the edges of her eyes when she smiles. She’s as firm and professional as ever, and Tony is grateful he has her in his corner. She’s his rock, and he’d surely be lost without her. 

Still, he’s tired. He’s been backstabbed, kidnapped, used and thrown away. He just wants to lay back and live the rest of his life in peace- or, relative peace anyways. You can’t really have a fully peaceful moment when one of your pseudo-sons is a self-sacrificing superhero. 

He wants to smile more, laugh more, enjoy a day sleeping in without having to worry about aliens or a huge multi-billion dollar company. He wants to tinker and build mindless inventions simply because they make him happy, not because his company’s well being is on the line if he misses a due date. He wants to live, not survive. Even if it’s just for a few years. 

He brings it up as soon as his mind is made, whirling into his and Pepper’s bedroom with wild hair and grease-stained hands. He leans in the doorway of the bathroom as Pepper washes off the last of a charcoal face mask, handing her a towelette when she gropes around blindly. 

Tony watches her for a few minutes, nearly unblinking in his attempts to silently get her attention. 

Pepper meets his eyes briefly, hanging up the towelette to dry. A smile twists at her lips. “What do you want, you big baby?” 

“Your attention,” he answers sweetly, snickering when she swats at his shoulder on her way out the door. “Do I have it?” 

“Hm. That depends.” She humors him, slipping into bed. “What do I get in return?” 

“I will brush my teeth before trying to kiss you tomorrow morning.” 

Pepper nods solemnly. “I see. You have my attention, you may proceed Mr. Stark.” 

Tony smiles brightly, whirling around on his feet to turn on the shower. “Well,” he begins, dropping his shirt to the floor. “I was thinking. Actually, scratch that. I’ve _been_ thinking.” He hops around on one foot and he struggles to pull off his sweats. He almost forgets what he means to say as he topples over, hitting the floor with a smack. Pepper coughs to hide her laugh. 

“You’ve been thinking?” She prompts, eyes crinkled in amusement. Tony squints over at her, pursing his lips. He opens his mouth once, then shuts it. He repeats this again, before huffing in irritation. 

“Take your time,” Pepper reminds, expression softening. “Just think about what you want to say, ignore the other thoughts.” 

“You forget who I am, Pep. One doesn’t simply ignore their thoughts when their name is Tony Stark.” 

“I know you more than you think I do, honey.” Pepper smiles. “You ignore your thoughts just fine when you’re being reckless-” 

“I want to retire.” Tony blurts. 

Pepper’s jaw snaps shut with a soft ‘click,’ looking wildly caught off guard. “I- come again?” 

“I want to retire,” Tony repeats, eyes searching Pepper’s face for any indication of anger. “Both of us. Retire.” 

“Oh.” Pepper murmurs. She pauses, before slipping out of bed. Tony keeps his eyes firmly on her own, not once looking away as she ventures over to him. She sits in front of him, before reaching up to cup his face. 

“What brought this on?” She asks softly. 

Tony swallows thickly, shutting his eyes. “Nothing.” 

“Tony.” 

He squeezes his eyes shut even tighter, huffing a short breath. “I’m tired,” he whispers. 

Pepper hums softly, smoothing her thumbs over his cheekbones. Her hands were soft, holding Tony as if he were something precious. “That makes sense,” she says. “You’ve done a lot for the world. Anyone would be tired.” 

“Yeah?” He asks, reaching up to grip loosely onto her wrists. 

“Mhm,” Pepper smiles. “You’re so strong, Tony. You deserve a break.” 

“Yeah?” He repeats, opening his eyes. 

“Absolutely.” 

Tony takes a deep breath, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. He collapses, falling into her arms like a limp noodle. His cheek rests comfortably against her collarbone, Pepper’s arms wrapping around his shoulders to cradle him protectively. 

They sit on the bathroom floor in silence for what feels like hours, the steam of the shower fogging up the room. 

“Let’s do it,” Pepper announces. 

Tony pulls away from her, just slightly. He quirks a brow, a smile tugging at his lips. “Really?” 

“Yep,” she nods. “Let’s retire.” 

* * *

“You know,” Tony mumbles later, head pressed to Pepper’s chest. “I already know who I want to replace me.” 

“Really?” Pepper presses a kiss to the crown of his head. “Peter?” 

“Mhm,” he sighs happily. “What about you? How are you going to find a replacement? Applications sound kind of cheesy.” 

Pepper smirks. “I don’t need to go searching. I know exactly who I want.” 

* * *

“Underoos!” 

  
“Mr. Stark!” Peter squeaks, eyes blowing wide at the sight of the man sitting on his living room couch. May is sitting beside him, eyes red rimmed with a grin lighting up her face. 

“Hey Peter! Tony here decided to stop by for a visit.” May gestures. “Deja vu, huh?” 

“It’ll be quick,” Tony waves dismissively. Peter glances at May, who shakes her head with a grin and mouths ‘no it won’t.’ 

His brows furrow, and he squints suspiciously. Dropping his bag to the floor, he makes his way to the armchair. “Uh, okay? What’s all this about?” 

Tony clears his throat, picks up a rather thick folder that he had set on the coffee table. It’s bright pink and clearly picked up from the dollar store, decorated with unicorns and obnoxiously colored ice cream cones. Peter snorts, but grabs it anyway. 

“Oh my god,” he weighs the folder in his palm. “How much paper is in this thing? Do you expect me to read it all right now?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “You’re a big boy now, you can handle some paperwork. To answer your question though, no, I don’t expect you to read all of it right now. That can all be handled later.” 

“Open it, baby.” May prompts. “Just glance over it a little bit.” She’s biting her lip, poorly trying to hide a grin. Tony looks as impassive as ever, but Peter can feel his eyes boring down at him through his fancy shades. 

“You guys scare me,” Peter mumbles, flipping open the folder. “Like, seriously. I don’t know if you guys being ominous together scares me more than you guys yelling at me together.” 

“I like to think we’re scarier when we’re yelling.” Tony offers. “I think we’re pretty kickass.” 

“No, I made up my mind.” Peter answers as his eyes skim over the paper. “You guys are scarier when you’re scheming. When you’re mad, you're never really angry, just disappointed. Which is worse, but not scary.” 

May laughs, and she begins to speak, but Peter can’t for the life of him try to determine what she’s saying as he finally digests what he’s reading. His stomach fills with butterflies, hands beginning to shake as his eyes dart over the words over and over. 

‘Official Resignation Forms of Anthony Edward Stark.’ 

‘Transfership of position signed to: Peter Benjamin Parker.’

“I think,” Peter mumbles softly, “I think I’m dreaming.” 

A quick glance up at the adults showed him that no, he was not dreaming. May finally let herself grin, eyes glistening with proud tears. Tony himself had folded up his shades and tucked them into the breast pocket of his suit, a clear sign that he was about to start up a serious conversation. 

“Oh my God,” Peter’s jaw drops. “I’m not dreaming.” 

“Nope,” Tony pops the ‘p.’ “This is as real as you and I. This comes with a sappy speech, so I’m going to need you to zip up that piehole and listen closely, capice?”

“Yes sir,” Peter nods rapidly, clutching the folder close to his chest. 

“You need to know, I’m not going to force you into anything.” Tony starts. “If you decide, ‘hey, this is garbage, I want to run away and join the circus instead,’ then I’m not going to stop you.” 

“I might,” May interjects. 

“She might,” Tony nods. “But I won’t, since I don’t have that authority over you.” 

Peter watches as Tony stands up and crosses the living room to kneel in front of him, nose scrunching up as his knees protest at the motion. That simple expression feels like a slap to the face, a reality check that Peter has been pushing off out of fear he might shatter. 

“Look at me, kid,” Tony’s voice cuts through the fog that threatens to cloud his head, the feeling of a calloused palm against his cheek forcing him to focus. Peter blinks, dragging his gaze down to meet his mentor's brown eyes. 

“There you go. Can you hear me?”

Peter nods. 

Tony visibly relaxes. “Good, good.” He doesn’t pull his hand away, instead cupping the back of Peter’s neck and bringing him down so their foreheads press together. Peter exhales shakily, maintaining their eye contact. 

“Listen,” Tony murmurs. “There isn't anybody else I’d trust more with my position than you. You are amazing at inventing new technology, and you have a good heart. I know Stark Industries will flourish with you.” 

Peter blinks away the dampness in his eyes, brows furrowing. “Mr. Stark, I- I don’t know what to say. You’re really retiring?” 

“Yeah, I am. It’s about time, don’t you think? Pepper agrees. She’s retiring too.” 

“Really?” Peter gapes. “What about the company? No one could ever run Stark Industries as good as her!”

Tony shrugs. “I have no idea what she’s planning, honestly. She said she had someone in mind, but I don’t really know who. They’ve got to be good, if Pepper likes them.” 

Peter takes a deep breath, nodding. “Okay,” he whispers. “You’re-You’re really giving me this?” 

Tony smiles. “Sure thing, get used to it Mr. Director.” He ruffles Peter’s hair and pulls away, the teen flushing at the gesture and swatting at his hand. Tony straightens out, pulling out his shades again. “I have to get going, who knew retiring from a multi-billion dollar company required so much planning and paperwork?” He rolls his eyes. 

“Wow, first world problems right there. So sorry you have to sit through retiring, Mr. Stark,” Peter snorts. 

Tony pulls him in for a rough noogie that has Peter shrieking, his own face straight and impassive as though it were no big deal. He releases the teen from his hold and checks his watch, feigning surprise. “Oh, would you look at that! It looks like I’m needed at the airport to kiss my perfectly capable wife goodbye. Gotta jet kiddie, stay in school, don’t do drugs, all that jazz.” He waves a hand carelessly, already halfway to the door. He pauses with his hand on the knob, before turning around. 

“One more thing,” Tony adds. “Be ready after school Friday. We gotta meet up with some lawyers to go over that folder in more depth. Don’t lose sleep over reading it yourself, just wait for me. Got it?” 

“Yes sir,” Peter nods firmly. 

Tony smirks. “Right. Knew I could count on you. See ya, kid. Bye May, don’t forget the dinner this Saturday.” 

“I won’t,” May calls, waving goodbye as the billionaire strolled out the door. 

Peter waits calmly as the sound of Tony’s heartbeat draws farther away, before disappearing entirely alongside the roar of his car’s engine. Even then, he waits just a little bit longer before meeting Aunt May’s expectant look. 

He takes a big, deep breath. Then, he promptly loses his shit. 

* * *

Harley Keener wouldn’t say he had a very interesting home-life. 

Sure, he had a couple of ‘wow’ moments every now and then. Like the time Tony Stark broke into his garage, or the time he broke his leg running away from a bear after a hunting trip with Abby. But despite these occasional little moments, Harley was just a boring normal teenager. 

An insanely smart normal teenager. An insanely smart, but downright exhausted normal teenager. 

Still boring. 

It’s an understatement to say that Harley works himself down to the bone. Not with school, school is easy. His homework is always done in just an hour, too. All of it. It’s what he does after school that tires him down. 

He works. He works, and works, and works. He mows lawns, he repairs car engines, he takes online tech commissions, he cooks and cleans and changes Joshua’s diaper several times a day. Those are only his side-jobs, his main being a part-time job at the single itty-bitty sonic in Rose Hill. His hands are littered with scars and burns, but never once do they shake. They’ve got a job to do, after all. 

Someone has to pay the bills. It ain’t gonna be Mama. 

Abby works, too. He tries to tell her not to, but she usually ignores him. As much as he hates it, the money she pulls in helps. It usually buys the toiletries and the diapers, sometimes even a treat from the bakery run by Mrs. Lawson and her boys. Abby is only 13, but she carries herself like a woman.

Harley hates it. 

Abby forced him to sleep in that morning. It was his day off from Sonic, and he for once had no commissions to work on. He had planned on mowing his neighbors lawn that afternoon, but Abby beat him to it. 

“Don’t test me Harley James,” she’d threatened. “You don’t step a foot out of this house unless you got some house-errands to run. I’ll hear about it, you hear? There ain’t no secrets in this house.” 

She wasn’t very threatening, all tiny and button-nosed. But it always pained him to see her disappointment, whenever he went against her wishes. So he’d simply nodded and allowed himself to watch Abby as she sprayed herself down with outdoor spray and left, sunhat covering her fiery red hair. 

That was three hours ago. 

Now, he struggles to crack an egg one-handed with a clingy 9-month old on his hip. Joshua has a slobbery fist in his mouth, mumbling incoherently around it while Harley bustles around the kitchen and cooks breakfast. 

Harley cheers as he successfully manages to crack not just one, but all of his eggs one handed. 

“Fuck yeah,” Harley whispers. “Look at me, bein’ al fancy. Gordon Ramsey could never,” he mumbles, grabbing a wooden spoon. He makes quick work of scrambling the eggs, adding in the chopped up sausage when they were half-done. He lowers the heat and pulls out the bread loaf, struggling to open the bag one-handed as well. 

He gets breakfast set up in no time, covering one plate with aluminum foil and setting it aside for Mama for whenever she wakes up from her alcohol-induced sleep. 

Abby steps in the house just as he sets a plate down for her, skin pinkened from the sun and socks green with grass stains. 

“Phew,” she hollers. “It sure is hot outside. Have you checked in with Edwards lately? His wife just popped out triplets!” 

“Triplets?” Harley’s brows shot up. “Jesus fuck.” 

“Right?” Abby sets her hat down, catching the water bottle Harley tosses at her. 

“Go shower, stinky.” Harley orders. “The food ain’t going nowhere.” 

“Whatever, you big baby. I got a good seventy-five for that lawn, by the way.” She slaps the bills in a little box full of their savings. “Joshua is runnin’ out of wipes, and is low on diapers and formula. This should cover that, yeah?” 

“Barely,” Harley answers. “You know how I buy two cans of formula in a shopping trip? That's almost forty dollars right there.” 

Abby whistles, tossing her empty bottle away. “I’m gonna hit the showers then. Don’t go shopping without me, you know I don’t like staying cooped up in this house.” 

“Sure thing, Abigail. Good job on that lawn today.” 

Abby shoots him a bright smile at the praise, before disappearing down the hall. 

Harley finishes his breakfast, setting his dishes in the sink. Abby emerges from her shower fifteen minutes later, and proceeds to tell him about her day while she shoves eggs in her mouth. 

Halfway through Abby’s story of stopping a cat fight, a knock sounds on their door. 

“One sec, Abby.” Harley hands Joshua over to Abby, who settles him on her knee and bounces him up and down happily. 

The sound of Abby’s baby-talk and Joshua’s raspy little giggles fill their home as Harley heads to the front door. He bites back a sappy smile, opening the door with a swing. 

...only to be met with the sight of Pepper Potts standing on his front pork, thick manilla folder in hand and hair tied back in a tight ponytail. 

“Hi, Harley,” she smiles. “Do you have a minute?”

* * *

“I’m so sorry, it’s a little bit messy. Sunday is our cleaning day,” Harley fusses. 

“I don’t mind,” Pepper assures. “Your home looks lived in. I think that’s nice.” 

Harley smiles crookedly, gestures to a seat. “We can talk here. It’s okay if Abby listens in, right? She don’t got no friends, anyways. She won’t blab.” 

“Hey!” Abby cries. 

Pepper laughs softly. “It’s fine actually. Go ahead. This is actually an incredibly important moment, your mom here?” 

Harley deflates a little bit, nodding his head and taking Joshua from Abby. “Yeah. Completely conked out, though. Had a bit too much fun last night,” he snorts. 

Pepper frowns, getting the message immediately. “Ah, I see.” She mumbles. “Very well, then.” 

Harley takes a seat, Abby following suit. “What brings you here, Ms. Potts? Tony didn’t mention anything about a visit last time we called.” 

Pepper smiles. “That’s because we were keeping it a bit of a surprise, actually. It took a lot of planning. It’s also a little nerve wracking, if I am honest.” 

“You get nerves?” Abby blurts, ignoring Harley bopping her on the back of her head. “Sorry, it’s just… you’re Pepper Potts. Harley don’t even talk to you that much, from what he’s told me.” 

“Np, but I’m always there.” Pepper answers. “Whenever they call, I’m there. I don’t do very well on calls if they aren’t professional, believe it or not.” 

“Sounds like baloney,” Abby announces. Pepper laughs, taking in Harley’s embarrassed face. 

“Sorry about her, she don’t got no filter,” Harley sighs tiredly. 

“No need to apologize, we need more women unafraid to speak their mind these days.” Pepper waves a hand dismissively. She looks down, meeting Joshua’s bright blue eyes. “And this is little Joshua, correct? I hear you and Tony talking about him all the time.” 

Harley beams. “Yes ma’am. Joshua Anthony Keener. Say hi, Josh.” He bounces the baby on his knee lightly. Joshua just blinks shyly up at Pepper beneath his lashes, still chewing on his fist. Pepper is instantly smitten. 

“You wanna hold him? He’s a tiny little thing, even pre-serum Captain Rogers could carry him if he wanted.” Harley grins. 

“If you don’t mind,” Pepper sets her folder down. “I know babies don’t appreciate getting carried by strangers though, so it’s fine if he doesn’t want it.” 

“You ain’t no stranger, Miss Potts,” Harley passes Joshua over. “You’re family. Besides, it’s about time another woman carries him. Someone who isn’t thirteen years old and couldn’t carry a milk jug until fifth grade.” 

Abby turns up her nose, huffing. “I’m going to be mature and pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Your mom doesn’t hold him?” Pepper looks at him sharply, ignoring their banter and instead choosing to focus on that little detail. “What about feeding? Diaper changes?” 

“Mama works during the day,” Harley answers. “Drinks at night. Abby and I deal with him, and maybe Mrs. Guitierrez if we are both busy.” 

“What’s his relation to you? Tony never mentioned.” Pepper asks, brows furrowing in confusion. 

“That’s because I never told him,” replies Harley. “He’s my son.” 

Pepper falters, visibly confused. Harley notices, and chuckles. 

“It’s uh- a long story. It wasn’t uh, consensual, on my part.” Harley shrugged weakly. “But that’s not why you’re here. Does Mama need to be here for this? I could wake her up if you need me to.” 

“No, no,” Pepper stammers. Tony doesn’t know. Harley trusted Pepper with this information, and Tony has no idea. “It’s fine, Harley. It’s not necessary.” 

“Alright then,” Harley leans back against the couch he’s on, one leg crossed over the other. He could tell this was important- and based off the clues Pepper gave earlier, it was professional too. “What’s this about?” 

Pepper nods, adjusting her hold on the baby curled into her side. 

“Right,” she begins. She twists the folder around and slides it across the table for Harley to grab. Harley picks it up, flipping open the tab. “Tony and I have decided to retire as of last week. We’re still going to be working for a good few years, but there’s a reason for that too.” 

“You’re retiring?” Harley’s eyebrows shoot up. “I swear I thought you’d be like, ninety and still attending business meetings.” 

Pepper chuckles. “Not quite. Where Tony goes, I go. He wants to retire? I’ll follow him there too.” 

“Absolutely disgusting,” Harley gags. “Get those emotions outta my house.”

“Ignore him,” Abby says solemnly. “Mrs. Murray told me he’s emotionally constipated.” 

“Mrs. Murray can’t see five feet ahead of her, she don’t know shit,” Harley snarks. He purses his lips, squinting down at the first page of the folder. “Miss Pepper, I’m confused. Why’d you hand me your retirement forms?” 

“Those aren’t retirement forms, Harley.” Pepper smiles fondly. “Look a little closer.” 

Abby leans over Harley’s shoulder curiously. The two proceed to read a bit deeper into the page, Harley chewing on his lip in concentration. 

Abby gets it first. Her jaw drops, eyes blowing wide open. She grabs Harley’s shoulders, shaking rapidly. “Harley! Oh my god, oh my god,” she chants. “Holy shit, Harls!” 

Harley is a little slower to understand what he’s reading, but when he gets it, his head snaps up. Pepper is smiling widely across from them, clearly enjoying their reactions. 

“I-I,” Harley chokes out, trembling hand lifting to his mouth. “What?” 

“When I first got the job, I would sit back and wonder about who I’d want to take after me.” Pepper explains. “After all, I didn’t want kids of my own. I always need a plan B, just in case. That’s just who I am. Then, Tony introduced me to you on one of your calls.” She adjusts her hold on Joshua, reaching over to rest a hand on Harley’s knee. She squeezes it gently, tilting her head a bit to force eye-contact with the teen. “Something clicked, after our first conversation. I knew almost immediately afterwards who I wanted.”

Pepper remembers her first meeting with Harley very clearly. Harley was barely thirteen, and by then he and Tony had been speaking for almost two years. Harley was all sarcasm and sharp smiles, untrusting of Pepper at first. He warmed up after a few minutes of watching her interact with Tony, who’s opinion he clearly held close to his heart. Pepper remembers seeing the fire in his eyes, Abby hanging off his shoulders (which seemed weighed down by great amounts of responsibility no thirteen-year old should carry) while he and Tony talked enthusiastically about upgrades to the newest StarkPhone. 

She had decided she liked him, and would be keeping tabs. 

She and Harley were close, but not in the same way he and Tony were. They didn’t speak often, but communicated through actions and gestures that said ‘I got your back, and you got mine.’ It was intimate in an entirely different way, but it was special.

Harley hiccups, and Pepper’s smile wobbles. 

“Aw, damn,” Abby sniffles, before dragging Harley to her chest. “Stop crying, you guys. You’re gonna make me cry.” 

“Shut up,” Harley sobs, relaxing when Pepper kneels in front of them and hugs them both. “Pepper, I-I don’t know what to say.” 

“Then don’t say anything,” Pepper murmurs, running a hand through Abby’s damp hair. “It’s all going to be better, now.” 

Harley breaks, gripping onto the back of her blazer. Abby follows closely behind, and Pepper holds them as tight as she can, Joshua squished between them. 

It’s all going to be okay. 

* * *

  
  


Shadowing Tony is easy work. Kind of. 

Their meeting with the lawyers was barely two weeks ago. It was there he was informed that he was to shadow Tony around and slowly immerse himself into his shoes, until Tony deemed him fit enough to be left to his own devices. It is, quite frankly, a terrifying thought. He can’t imagine a world without Tony mentoring him, hovering over his shoulder and correcting his mistakes. 

He started shadowing Tony the Monday after, and it’s actually not as bad of a disaster as it could be. 

His current schedule is simple; go to school, finish homework, dress into something nicer than his hand-me-down sweater and jeans, and ghost Tony around until 9 p.m. Weekends are reserved for Spider-Man, unless Tony needs him. At first, Peter was exhausted. He wasn’t really used to spending his free-time actually doing work, usually spending those hours reading random crap on his phone. 

He misses talking to his internet friends, but he wouldn’t trade this for the world. 

For now, Peter just deals with paperwork. Lots of paperwork, and taking notes for Tony during the meetings he’s forced to attend in the afternoons. He’s not really allowed to talk to other board members, or other SI employees. He isn’t even allowed to tell his friends about his situation. If they know too much then the word will spread, and Tony is doing his best to keep that from happening. 

Peter quite enjoys being an enigma- it makes him look cool. He’d like to hold up the facade until everyone is forced to acknowledge that he is a huge dork. 

Peter hurriedly tugs on his nice shoes- a brand new all black pair of converse. Tony went shopping for him shortly after Peter accepted being his heir, thankfully going for clothes that make it obvious he’s a teenager but acceptable for him to wear to all the important events he follows Tony to. With Tony as his boss (his _boss_ , good god) he’s sure he’s allowed that little bit of leeway. If his boss were Pepper, that would probably be an entirely different story. 

He messes with his curls a bit, adds a little mousse, before shrugging and calling it a day. It’s not like it matters, he doesn’t have many people to impress. He slides on his messenger bag, tucks a pen behind his ear, and rushes out his door. 

It’s supposed to be his weekend off, but Tony had told him before bed last night that he and Pepper had some big meeting to attend that weekend. Something about a deal with Harry Osborne, one of the youngest billionaires in the world. Peter remembers talking to him a lot when he was little, but he doubts Harry remembers him after he was shipped off to boarding school. Either way. It’ll be really nice to see him again in person. Even if Peter isn’t allowed to talk to him. 

He passes by May sleeping on the couch and drops a kiss on her forehead on his way out the front door, making sure to lock up behind him. He’s slipping into the backseat of Happy’s car two minutes later, smiling sheepishly when the man grumbles about him being late. 

“Sorry, Happy.” Peter apologizes. “It won’t happen again. Maybe.” 

“Don’t take after Tony so early, squirt. I need at least two months notice,” Happy grumps, shifting the car into drive. Peter just beams, before pulling out a half-done packet of paperwork he has due on Monday evening. May as well get finished while he has time. 

* * *

Peter knows better than to run in the hallways, but he actually has a reason this time. 

It’s not that he’s running late or anything. In fact, Peter is pretty much on time. He’s just a little excited to be seeing Harry after so many years of forced radio silence, that’s all. He wants to get to Tony’s penthouse as soon as possible. 

That, and Happy made the mistake of ordering Peter a coffee with not one, but _two_ shots of espresso. 

Peter rushes out the elevator to the penthouse as fast as his legs could carry him, and ends up shooting right into another person. 

Peter yelps, the other person crying out in surprise with him. Peter’s strength sends them both tumbling to the floor, Peter slamming his hands on the floor by the stranger’s head to avoid crashing their noses together in what would surely be a bloody mess. 

“Oh my god,” Peter cries. “I am so sorry, here, hold on-” 

“It happens, it’s fine,” a slightly dazed voice answers him. Peter scrambles to get off the warm (slender, small, _pliant_ ) body beneath him, face blazing. He stumbles to his feet, before sticking his hand out to help them up. 

The stranger takes the offered hand, and Peter hauls them to their feet. 

“Again, I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark tells me not to run in the halls but I had so much caffeine today and honestly expected him to still be passed out by now so I thought-” 

“Don’t worry about it,” the stranger smiles awkwardly. Peter notices that they’re a boy, with big blue eyes and tanned skin with a smattering of freckles. Atop his head lays sandy blonde hair, slicked back with just a few curls framing his face from where they’ve escaped after their fall. He wears a black turtleneck tucked neatly into a pair of patterned gray slacks, all held together with a sleek black belt and shoes.

He’s really, really pretty. 

Peter opens his mouth to maybe apologize to the pretty boy once again, but is (thankfully) cut off by the arrival of Tony and Pepper. 

“Pete! Good to see you made it on time. What’s this I hear about my paperwork being turned in on time? If I knew you were this punctual, I woulda asked you to do my job a long time ag- am I missing something?” 

Tony pauses in front of them, and Peter belatedly realizes that he and Pretty Boy are still holding hands. They both yank their arms away as though burned, faces burning. Pepper is smiling from where she stands behind Tony, all dressed up and proper for their meeting. 

Tony blinks slowly at them for a second, before his eyes fully lock in on the boy beside Peter. He double-takes. 

“Harley? Is that you?” He gapes, eyes lighting up with emotion Peter’s never seen before. “Pepper?” 

Pepper bites her lip to hide her grin, and Peter sees Harley beam. 

“Hi, Tony. Fancy seeing you here.” Harley grins. 

Tony’s across the room in a blink, tugging Harley into a tight hug. “Wow, I- just wow.” Tony laughs. “Are you the replacement that Pepper’s kept a secret from me all this time?” 

“Maybe,” Harley’s voice is muffled from where he’s pressed against Tony’s shoulder, patting his back lightly. “First day on the job, I can’t exactly work if you’ve suffocated me.” 

“Hm, sucks to suck,” Tony snarks, but pulls away nonetheless. Harley chokes out a startled laugh.    
  


“Who the fuck taught you slang? Not me, that’s for sure. I take great pleasure in seeing you struggle to keep up with kids.” 

“That one over there. I asked him, and he can’t say no to me.” Tony gestures to Peter, who waves. “Though it looks like you met already.” 

“We were just shaking hands,” Harley lies smoothly. “We couldn’t introduce ourselves before your ugly butt decided to intervene.” 

“Pepper thinks my butt is quite handsome, thank you very much.” Tony sniffs. 

“I’m Peter,” Peter interjects, knowing Tony could go on with his dramatics for hours if they didn’t interrupt him. “Peter Parker.” 

“Harley Keener,” Harley introduces, bright blue eyes locking onto Peter. Peter’s breath catches, but he forces down any butterflies in favor of smiling his way. Harley hoists a messenger bag over his shoulder, StarkTablet tucked into one arm as he slides a stylus behind his ear. “Ten minutes till the meeting, Miss Pepper.” 

“Right,” Pepper nods. “Can’t keep them waiting. Friday, let Abby know that there’s breakfast croissants in the white bag on the counter when she wakes up.” She calls, before making her way to the elevator. Peter follows after her, walking beside Harley while Tony jogs to keep pace with Pepper’s long strides. 

“Yes, Miss Potts.” Friday answers obediently, shutting the elevator doors behind them. 

* * *

The meeting goes really, really well. Peter and Harley take notes and don’t speak the whole time, sneaking glances at each other when they think they aren’t looking. Harry recognizes Peter when the meeting ends, sneaking a slip of paper with his discord handle on it into Peter’s pocket on his way out the door. Tony doesn’t even fall asleep once, kicking Harley back and forth under the table until Pepper catches him and gives him a sharp glare. 

A few signatures on a slip of paper from Harry’s lawyer and a few professional handshakes later, Pepper’s ordering lunch while on their way to the penthouse. 

“So, you’re that Harley that Mr. Stark waxes poetic about? The one with the potato gun?” Peter asks, smiling cheekily at the offended look Tony gives him. Harley laughs, and Peter has to bite his lip to keep from smiling like a sap at the noise. 

“I don’t work with potato guns anymore, unfortunately.” Harley grins. “I fuck with machinary. Usually car engines, some beat up Iron Man suits Tony sent over every once and a while. Cool shit, but he won’t let me touch any arc reactors.”

“That’s because you’re a little shit, Keener. I don’t trust you with anything that goes ‘boom.’” 

“Wow, Mr. Stark. Bullying your interns? That’s a new low for you.” Peter tisks, easily catching the pen Tony launches at him. Harley shuffles closer to Pepper, sticking his tongue out at Tony from behind her shoulder. 

“Abby’s my favorite child now. No, not Abby. I’m almost sure she’s planning a prank against me right now. I like Joshua. All he does is eat, shit, and sleep. Ideal child, if you ask me.” 

“You aren’t stealing my little brother, Tony.” Harley wrinkles his nose. 

Peter doesn’t miss the way Pepper’s eyes shoot over to Harley at the word ‘brother,’ questioning at first, before brief realization dawns over them. He narrows his eyes, but decides to file that information away for later. 

The elevator door opens, and they all exit. 

“Abby!” Tony exclaims cheerfully, seeing the redhead sitting on the counter with a baby in her arms. Harley crosses the room to carefully scoop it into his own arms instead, barely in time for Abby to jump off the counter and fly into Tony’s torso. 

“Tony!” Abby cries. “You got shorter, old fart.” 

“First of all, no. You just got taller, that’s how bodies work. Second of all, I’m not even fifty yet!” Tony looks affronted, but he still hugs her tightly. He shifts his hold on her to one arm after a minute, making a sweeping gesture over at Peter. “Abs, this is Parker.” 

Abby makes a soft ‘ah’ noise of realization, sweeping her eyes over his form, before back at Harley, then back to Peter again. Peter feels vaguely like a fly, caught under her gaze and unable to even move. 

“So, am I right, or am I right?” Tony asks her. 

“Perfect,” Abby agrees. 

“I feel like I’m missing something here, and I have half a mind to feel terrified.” Peter admits wearily. 

“Good,” Abby grins. She sticks her hand out, and Peter reaches out to shake it. “Strong grip. Even better,” Abby notes. 

“Stop scaring him, Abby.” Harley interjects, swatting at her hand. “Sorry ‘bout her. No braincells, you know how it is with the kids these days.” He grins innocently at Peter, who smirks back. 

“Ah, makes sense.” Peter nods sagely. “Youngins.” 

“Youngins,” Harley repeats. 

* * *

Days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months. Being Tony Stark’s heir is easier, now that he’s not alone. They’re both just two teenagers wearing shoes too big for them, but they make it work anyways. 

Harley ends up attending Midtown, but he turns out to be bored there too. He commonly tells Peter that the only reason he hasn’t skipped yet is because he’d be even more bored, and Peter and his gaggle of nerd-friends keep him entertained. Peter can tell it’s more than that, though. 

Harley wouldn’t want to be lonely. 

Getting Harley out of his shell was easy. He went from a mildly mischievous and calculating teenager to an absolute menace, loud and brash and snarky. MJ adores him, and Ned is very easily roped into his shenanigans. Peter finds himself enjoying Harley’s presence too, but in a bit of a different way. 

Harley is very affectionate. He’s always touching someone, whether it be an arm over a shoulder or a hooked ankle under their desks. More than half the time, on Peter’s weekly tower visits, Harley and Peter end up sprawled all over each other like a couple of leeches, throwing finger food at each other or poking each other's sides with their cold feet. 

There’s only one problem with that, though. 

Peter is very, flamingly bisexual. 

Harley is just incredibly pretty. He’s also funny, caring, and has the prettiest laugh Peter has ever heard. He’s _also_ witty, intelligent, and bold. He’s just perfect, and Peter can wax poetic about him all day. Which, in itself, concerns and freaks him out. 

Peter’s been trying to confess to him, but he’s not exactly the best planner either. 

He walks into the penthouse one weekend, bright and early. He’s still exhausted from all his finals from the past week, but he wouldn’t miss this day for the world. He’s not there for his job, for once. In fact, he came bearing casual clothes, bags of birthday decorations, gifts, and some baking ingredients Harley had text him a list of. 

“Where’s the birthday boy?” Peter calls excitedly, dropping his items off at the kitchen island. Harley’s already puttering around, still clad in pajamas. 

“No good morning to me?” Harley wipes a fake tear. “I see how it is.” 

“You woke me at the ass crack of dawn. No good morning for you.” Peter jabs him in the side. Harley pokes him right back, which results in more poking until they’re eventually wrestling it out on the kitchen floor. 

Right as he has Harley pinned flat on the tiles, his enhanced hearing picks up a little heartbeat and the light patter of socked feet in the halls. He offers Harley a cheeky grin, mentally jumping for joy at the sight of Harley’s flushed face and heaving chest. 

Peter hauls himself up just in time for a tiny body to come crashing into his knees, small hands gripping onto his pant legs. 

“Josh!” Peter exclaims happily, easily hoisting him up into his arms. “Happy birthday, nugget!” 

“Happy birthday, Joshua!” Harley calls from the floor. 

Josh doesn’t speak, instead beaming up at Peter so hard that his big blue eyes squeezed shut. Peter grins widely. “You just woke up, didn’t you? Your bed-head is as bad as your brother’s.” He runs a hand through the soft brown locks, ignoring Harley’s indignant cry of protest behind him. “Ignore him, his balls are in a twist.” 

Joshua giggles quietly, and Peter’s chest tightens. Joshua’s a fairly quiet child, even though he’s proved he knows what words mean. Dr. Banner explained to him and Harley that Joshua’s just too intelligent to properly get the words out, brain too fast to keep up with his mouth. Joshua not only knows words but, in fact, has shown to know _more_ words than an average child his age should, if his rapid hand-signing is anything to prove by. 

Peter quickly noticed that ASL was the primary form of communication between the little family, and demanded Tony teach him so he and Joshua can talk better. It didn’t take long for Peter to master. The lack of speech wasn’t much an obstacle anymore, if it ever was at all before. It makes Joshua’s rare little laughs even more precious, and Harley agrees if the sappy look on his face is anything to go by. 

“Well, let’s go brush our teeth, yeah?” Peter adjusts Joshua so he’s settled firmly on his hip, before waving to Harley as they venture to the bathroom. 

He emerges from the bathroom ten minutes later, Joshua now on the floor but holding onto Peter’s hand tightly. “We now have minty teeth,” Peter announces. 

“Proud of yall,” Harley answers distractedly. “Ears, Peter.” 

Peter clamps his hands over his ears as Harley boots up the electric mixer, wrinkling his nose unhappily. Joshua doesn’t find a problem with the noise, instead toddling over to Harley and tugging on his pant leg. 

“One second Josh,” Harley hums. Joshua tugs harder, eyebrows furrowing.

When Harley doesn’t answer this time, Joshua huffs a little and switches tactics. “Daddy,” he calls.

Peter and Harley both freeze. Harley shuts the mixer off with and swallows thickly, before kneeling down to Joshua’s height. 

‘What’s wrong, buddy?’ Harley signs. 

‘Peter hurt,’ Joshua replies simply. ‘Ears.’ 

“I’m okay, kiddo,” Peter speaks up quietly. “See? My ears are fine.” 

Joshua shrugs, before spotting Abby passing by the kitchen doorway. He perks up, and speeds right out the room after her. 

Harley and Peter are left staring at each other. 

“Peter-” 

“Harls-” 

They both stop, and Peter offers Harley a gentle smile. “Paper scissors rock?” 

“It’s rock paper scissors, you uncultured heathen.” 

“Hmm, not last time I checked. Are you sure it’s me that’s uncultured? Do you even have culture in Rose Hill?” Peter smirks. 

“Watch yourself, Parker.” Harley mock scowls.

The two eye each other in silence a little more, the only sounds coming from Abby and Joshua in the living room. Harley takes a deep breath and turns around, taking a spatula and scraping down the sides of his mixing bowl. 

“I won’t tell you how I got him,” Harley says. His voice is quiet and strained, eyes firmly not leaving his baking. “But I’m sorry for not telling you. I knew you wouldn’t judge. You would never.” 

“That’s right. And I still don’t, Harls.” Peter whispers. He reaches out, resting his hand on Harley’s forearm where it’s started vigorously whisking the rest of the cake batter. “I don’t judge you for having him, and I definitely don’t judge you for keeping it a secret.” 

Harley pauses his actions, looking up. His eyes search Peter’s own, and Peter doesn’t dare look away. Harley relaxes, smiling tiredly. “Thank you.” 

“Wanna know something?” Peter offers, absentmindedly rubbing at the skin beneath his thumb. 

“Hmm?” 

“I kind of guessed.” 

Harley jerks, eyes wide. “What, really? Fuck, do you think Tony-?” 

Peter laughs lightly. “No, Harley. Tony’s smart, but he’s also tired. He’s probably spacing out during half of your dinners. But Harley, it’s not a bad thing. Joshua knows he has a dad there for him, ready to care for him when he needs it. He’s not scared to call you dad, he doesn’t think twice. That’s really good, Harley. _Really_ good.” 

Harley’s eyes are damp. He moves to duck his head self-consciously, and before Peter can think about what he’s doing, he’s reaching up and cupping Harley’s face to prevent him from doing so. 

They both freeze, obviously surprised by Peter’s actions. Harley’s looking up at him with wide eyes, so blue that Peter could get lost in them. 

Suddenly embarrassed, Peter makes to remove his hands and apologize, but Harley reaches up and grips his wrists. “Stay,” He whispers. 

Peter swallows thickly. “Okay,” he murmurs, gently pressing their foreheads together. Harley’s breath comes out in warm brushes of air against his face, and Peter squeezes his eyes shut before diving in and pushing their lips together. 

Surprisingly, Harley doesn’t reel back. He doesn’t fight, doesn’t push him away in disgust and kick him out of his son’s birthday party. Instead he wraps his arms around Peter’s neck and pulls him closer, their bodies pressing flush against each other. Peter presses a hand to the small of Harley’s back, the other gripping tightly onto the countertop behind them. 

Peter pulls away when he feels Harley’s heartbeat speed a little faster, signalling his need for air. Harley’s panting quietly, but Peter looks unfazed, if not for his nervous grin. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Peter admits sappily. 

“Shut up, dork,” Harley laughs breathlessly. “...me too.” 

“What does this mean?” Peter asks, loosely lacing their fingers together. 

“I’m not having our relationship anniversary be on my son’s birthday,” Harley smirks. “If anyone asks, this happened yesterday, capice?” 

“Does this make you my boyfriend?” Peter asks, eyes sparkling excitedly. 

“Only if it makes me yours,” Harley grins. 

Peter kisses him again. 

* * *

Harley takes a deep breath. He slides into the glass doors of Tony’s lab, looking around for his father-figure. Tony had wished Joshua a happy birthday before rushing down to finish whatever gift he was creating, promising to be up before three. 

Peter knowing about Joshua makes Harley feel a little bit better. He feels just a little bit more confident, even if he’s still scared shitless. 

He won’t have literally everyone but Tony know that Tony’s a grandpa. Under his own roof, too. 

“Tony?” Harley calls. 

He hears a shuffling, before Tony’s mess of hair pops out from behind a table. “Harley!” Tony waves. “Over here, squirt! I need you to tell me if this is a good gift for a one-year old or not.” 

“You didn’t think to ask me _before_ you started making it?” Harley crosses the lab, grinning in amusement. 

“Nah. Pepper kind of approved, but you know how she is. She’s great, but Joshua’s probably the only kid she’s ever met in her life.” 

Harley shrugs. “Fair enough.”

“So I decided to create this like, little song player, yeah? Since Josh really likes music. I caught that kid dancing in the living room like, twenty times at this point. Friday likes to play music for him when he gets restless-” 

“Tony-” 

“I thought that maybe this was really fucking stupid, because a one-year old doesn’t know anything about technology, and Joshua may be smart but he only has like 80 words in his pea brain.” 

“Tony.” 

“But Peter told me it was a good idea. This way for like, road trips, and when he starts school, or even when he’s having that sensory overload he gets every other week, he has something to calm him down. Friday reads his mood and plays songs according to it, so he doesn't have to do anything other than pluck on those headphones and jam out-” 

“Tony!” Harley interjects, exasperated. Tony mimes zipping his mouth shut, throwing away the key for good measure. Harley shakes his head, crossing his arms. “Listen to me.” 

Tony gestures for Harley to sit down across from him, watching as Harley slinks over to the seat self-consciously. “What’s up, kid?” 

Harley takes a deep breath. “I need to tell you this before Joshua’s party actually starts.” 

“Ah, damn. The gift idea was that bad, huh? No big deal. What else do I have a billion dollars laying around for, I can find something online, just give me like, ten minutes-” Tony reaches for his phone. 

Harley stops him, laughing softly. “No, that’s not it. I just- I haven’t really been… honest.” 

“About what?” 

The nerves are back again. Harley’s smile falls, and he purses his lips. 

“Harley,” Tony starts softly. Harley spares him a second from looking at his lap resolutely to glance at him, and Tony gently squeezes Harley's knee. “Do I need to make any phone calls?” 

Harley’s lip trembles, and he bites it. He ducks his head. “Dad,” he whispers. “Joshua’s not my brother.” 

Tony frowns, scooting a little closer. “There’s a lot of things that can mean, Harls. You’re going to need to explain a little more.” 

Harley takes a shaking breath, closing his eyes. “He’s mine,” he bites out. “He’s-He’s mine.” 

Tony’s dead silent. Harley can barely hear his breathing, and the quiet hum of machinery in the lab. 

Hands cup his face for the second time that day, but this time is different. Tony’s hands are steady and warm, cradling him like a parent would their child. The tears drip down his cheeks without his permission, and Tony’s thumbs gently rub them away. 

“Hey,” Tony whispers. “Look at me, Harley.” 

Harley blinks rapidly, forcing himself to drag his eyes up. 

Tony smiles. “Good. I need you to listen to me, and listen to me closely, okay?” 

“Okay,” Harley rasps. 

“You’re so strong, Harley.” Tony says seriously. Harley whines, the sound quiet and pained, and Tony drags him in for a hug. “Fuck, Harls-” Tony murmurs. “You’re so strong. I don’t know how I never noticed. You look at him like he’s the reason your world fucking spins. Kind of like-” 

“Like you?” Harley laughs wetly. “I see you looking at me like that all the time. You aren’t slick.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Tony snorts. “Yes. No. Yes but also no. It’s- kind of like how I’d see my mom looking at me, sometimes. She’d look at me sometimes, when Dad would be in his moods. She’d be beat to hell and back, but whenever she looked at me, it’s like all that stress just...went away.” 

“I’m sorry,” Harley whispers. “I wish I got to meet her.” 

“I wish she got to meet you, too. She’d have loved you.” Tony’s voice is thick with emotion. “But I see how you look at him, how you hold him. You’re good for him.” 

Harley whimpers, and Tony realizes belatedly that he’s probably never been told just how _good_ he’s truly being. Maybe he heard it from his friends, but never from the perspective of an adult, from someone like Tony. The perspective of a parent. 

Tony cups the back of Harley’s head, pulling back and looking at him firmly. “You’re a good dad, Harley. You’re doing so _good_.” 

And if Harley falls apart, and Tony sheds a few tears of his own, then that’s something that stays in that room, only for them to know. 

* * *

“You’re probably wondering exactly why I called you all here. Ms. Potts and I have been silent for the past year, and I know you have questions about that, too. Don’t think I haven’t seen those rumors circulating around after my birthday this year, either. I see everything, I know what you all are getting up to.” 

Tony pauses, taking in the sight before him. He’s dressed in one of his best suits, standing before a small crowd of reporters for a press conference. He hasn’t had one of these since before the boys became the heirs to his company, and he can see just now how starving for fresh news the reporters before him are. 

“Ms. Potts and I have had something in the works for quite some time, and have finally come to the decision to officially announce today that we are retiring.” 

Tony’s expression doesn’t change as the small crowd roars to life, gasps and confused questions filling the air. He steps away from the microphone to allow Pepper to take his place at the podium.

Pepper stacks her cards neatly where she can see them, sharp eyes scanning over the reporters. She holds up a finger, and a hush falls over the room. 

“Mr. Stark and I are not officially retiring for another four years. We have, however, begun training our respective heirs in our past year of silence. We decided to keep quiet about their positions at Stark Industries as much as possible, until they were able to graduate high school. We waited for another month after, to prepare for today. We know rumors have spread about two boys shadowing us at our meetings, which was to be expected. We can now officially report that these rumors are true. However, the boys weren’t ready to announce their status up until today.” 

Pepper takes a deep breath, glancing at the door on the other side of the room. “We ask that you realize we didn’t just pick anyone for these positions. They truly are the best people for their jobs. So, it’s with great pleasure that Mr. Stark and I announce the heirs to the company, Harley James Stark and Peter Benjamin Parker.” 

Tony beams as the door opens, his two proteges spilling out in a bundle of anxious energy and wide, curious eyes. 

Yeah, he’s getting old. But maybe, just maybe, it’s not a bad thing. 

**Author's Note:**

> hope you guys enjoyed! let me know if you see like a typo or something, i was tired when i edited. i thought i posted this earlier but woke up from my nap like ????? APPARENTLY I DIDN'T. 
> 
> hmu at @chocomiruk on tumblr? :D


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